


I hate you, I love you

by Joacasbar



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:35:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joacasbar/pseuds/Joacasbar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was listening to the music and yeah, this happened</p>
    </blockquote>





	I hate you, I love you

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to the music and yeah, this happened

She couldn’t sleep, her head wouldn’t let her, always making scenarios up, always trying to make her make stuff that she never wanted to do. She hated it, she hated crying night after night while wanting to cut her neck, to make herself bleed to death, so it all could stop. She made lots of mistakes, but that was no reason for karma to fuck her up. Maybe she was selfish, but that was no reason to feel that pain. She left others, she left her friends in order to not hurt them. She was a bitch and acted like one, but something made her want to get back time. She felt alone, but this time she was truly alone, nobody was there for her and it was because she wanted them to leave, because she was selfish to leave them alone. And most of them hated her now because of that, because of the way that she acted. “I’ll never have them back again”. What could she do? She couldn’t say sorry, her ego was too big for that to happen. Besides that, who would listen her? Even she wrote hateful stuff to herself. Maybe karma actually had a reason to fuck her up. Maybe she just needed to start over. To leave that place, her school, her friends. But that was wrong right? Why would she do that? That was the same that showing fragility, and she never wanted to do that. Her “friends” would use that against her. It was her. This selfish bitch that was horrible inside, able to kill, able to hurt others, heartless.

The tears kept falling down her face, although she kept a numb look on her face, almost as if her tears were fake. She tried to sit down, and did it, but only after pushing her own body to the limit. Her hands were weak, small, cute for some. She once loved them, almost as if they were a gift. But now, she hated them. Weak, not strong enough to protect her or to hold her loved ones. But now, there was no one who would need to be hold by her, they all left. She looked at her pillow: white as her own skin. All of sudden, the rage came up, and she started to punch it, almost has if it was someone, until she fell down again, crying more than she was already and hugging her pillow while whispering words like “I’m sorry” or “I miss you”. This was her. This weak human being. That was just so small, while trying to look big, while trying to scare, but she was nothing more than a kid. No more that someone looking for forgiveness. So she wiped her eyes. “What about trying?”. Maybe this was the time. She wasn’t sure about it. She never was sure about doing something but, what if tomorrow was too late? Nobody was waiting for her, but she wanted to be remembered as someone which made lots of mistakes but in the end saw what she became and decided to say sorry. “I’ll do it”.

And time stopped: what would she say? “I’m sorry”. Was that enough? Maybe not, right? All seemed so hard right now. But it wasn’t. She was just acting selfish while thinking that it was hard. She was acting selfish just by thinking that someone would forgive her. Who would forgive her? Nobody, that was the answer. She looked to her pillow again, while her hands would hold each other and later she would be hugging herself tight, wishing that those arms were someone else’s. She wanted to feel her pieces all together but the truth was that she destroyed all the ways to make her feel that way again. She destroyed herself, day after day, like others said it would happen, but she never listened to them, she never thought that it would happen again, she thought this time was different, that she would succeed and become emotionless, just rational, as she always wanted. But dreams are dreams, and she got hurt before she got time to understand what she was doing, before she could analyse what was happening. She took her hand to her head, holding it almost as if it was going to fall down. She was cold and shaking. “Anxiety” said one of the voices inside her head. “No, I’m just tired” she replied to herself moments after her chest started to hurt. She knew that it was anxiety but she wanted to lie to herself in an attempt to make herself believe that it wasn’t.

Then her cell phone buzzed. It was 2 AM, who could it be? After all wasn’t her all alone? Her heart started to beat a bit faster as she led her hand to her cell phone. Her hand was shaking. “Who is texting me now?”. She closed her eyes. “I hope it’s actually someone”. She unlocked the screen and saw that it was a text, no doubt about it. She took one deep breath and then went to the message menu. She froze when she saw who was texting. Her best friend, the guy she almost stabbed, that she punched and kicked. He was texting her. Saying sorry. After all she did, he felt guilty about it, even though she was the one who hurted him. She got no reasons to do what she did. When she was able to digest the reality, she proceeded to read his text.

_‘Look, I’m sorry. I know what you said, I know that you said for me not to text you again, but the truth is that I’m worried about you. You don’t seem ok. I’ve seen how much time you spend by yourself, and I can see the dead look in your eyes. I can’t just ignore it. I’m sorry for all that I’ve said, and done. But we spent so many good moments together. I miss you, and I just want you to know that you’ll always have a shoulder here. Also, yeah, I know that it’s late but I needed to sent you this now or I’d regret it later. I love you <3’_

Her heart stopped. She could barely believe her eyes. She missed him as much as words could describe. After all, after all she did and said, he was there. He wanted to help her. And all she wanted to do was to jump to his arms the next day. To hug him tight, to cry and to say all that was happening on her head. But something on her head spoke louder “you hate him”. “Yes I do!”. In rage she locked the phone screen. “I’ll never forgive him!”. She looked up to the celling, “Why?”. Why couldn’t she forgive him? What did he do that deserved so much pain? Nothing right? He never hurt her, he never laid a finger on her in order to hurt her. She, on the other hand, made him stay on the hospital bed for two days. He was the one who had reasons to hate her. But even after all of that, even after all, he was there. “You know why you hate him”. She knew why she felt angry about him, she knew why rage would come to the surface every time they talked, but were those reasons good enough to let her hate him? He could have said some things, but he was only being honest. “What if you were him?”. Suddenly, she wasn’t able to reply. What if she was him? Always trying your best, always trying to help, just so she could make him happy. She looked to her cell phone again. “Why?” was all that she could think about. Why was he texting her? “Why does he keep trying?”. She wasn’t able to reply to that either. She couldn’t understand why.

“Why don’t you ask?”. All seemed so clear, all she needed to do was asking. “Is that the right thing to do? Shouldn’t I ask my friend about it first?”. She held her phone once again, while cleaning the tears on its surface. Then she remembered, she had no friends. There would be no one who would like to listen to this, to her small dilemma. What should she do? She sat down again, reading and rereading his text over and over again. Should she ask him? She wrote it down.

_Why?...’_

Was that enough? “This is wrong.” She proceeded to delete the text. “Don’t!”. She stopped. “Listen to yourself. You are no rational human. You have feelings, you are someone.” She looked down. “Should I do it?” She whispered. “Yes” her mind replied to her in response. “Ok, here it goes then.” She touched the sent button and after it, started breathing faster, feeling worried about his response. She took about twenty minutes to reply, maybe he was already asleep, or maybe he would never reply to her, it was just a play. She regretted have texted “…”, way that nobody did, even if they only meet a few months ago. She, on the other hand, always found him mysterious and difficult to understand. Even this text, she wasn’t able to understand, to know if it was all truth or just fake. She had to admit, maybe sometimes she would freak out about small things, about things that didn’t really matter. But he was able to make her smile in a way that nobody could. And her smile wasn’t fake during those times. It was as true as it could be, she would always feel happy. His hugs where able to bring her pieces all together, and maybe, she would never hug him again.

She jumped when her phone buzzed again, her heart almost leaving her own body. It was him again.

_I’ve told you, I miss you. Besides that you seem so sad, I want you to smile again.’_

At least he was honest right?

_'Who says that you’ll make me smile?...’_

The “…” were there again. She couldn’t control it, it was stronger than her. She felt that if she didn’t put that down that it would be lying. Also it would sound really rude. She didn’t know what he would reply, but prepared herself so the rage couldn’t come up, and destroy the last “relationship” that she had. While thinking about all that he could reply, she caught herself hugging her own teddy bear and tears on her eyes again. Maybe he wouldn’t even reply to her. The truth was that she hurt him, left him on the hospital bed, and never talked to him again, pretending that they never meet. She could barely see after thinking this, after seeing things this way. The tears would just fill her eyes before she could blink, before she could even breathe.

‘ _Nobody. But I did in the past… we had great moments together…’_

_'We HAD great moments together, things will never be like they were before.’_

She felt she was being to aggressive, after all they were talking by text. She didn’t gave him much of a choice. Or he gave up, or he would just drown on his own words, and, honestly, she felt horrible for that. Her heart started beating slowly as the text didn’t come. “This time he won’t answer”. And he didn’t.

               


End file.
